


The Call

by INMH



Series: hc_bingo fanfiction fills 2017 [37]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dark Rey, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Romance, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, past major character death, references to past violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:58:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: Dark!Rey AU (sort of? It's complicated). They both feel the call to the light, but it pains her more than it does him. ***SPOILERS FOR THE LAST JEDI***





	The Call

**Author's Note:**

> Dear God Dark Side!Rey gives me life (godDAMN The Last Jedi FUCKED ME UP BRO), but I also enjoy playing with the trope.
> 
> As it happens, I had the first two or three paragraphs of this set out before I even saw the newer trailers for The Last Jedi- IT JUST SO HAPPENS THAT THE MOVIE CHOSE TO PLAY MY SONG, Y'ALL.
> 
> Also: The "Major Character Death" warned for here is for two particular characters that die in The Last Jedi. But it's, uh... Kind of a _huge fucking spoiler_ so I put it as a major warning.

_Ben!_  
  
Kylo Ren’s eyes snapped open, as though the words had been spoken directly into his ear.  
  
No, not spoken- _shouted._  
  
He moved without thinking, getting out of bed and moving towards her room without even wondering if he ought to put on a shirt. Their living-quarters were connected; else he may have dressed more fully so as to avoid any odd encounters with a patrolling trooper or Hux. There were subtleties to maintaining an image of unapproachable power, and part of it was maintaining a consistent image on a daily basis.  
  
The door opened without so much as a touch, already unlocked, and Kylo Ren entered without a word. A quick scan of the room revealed a presence in a nook not immediately visible from the doorway.  
  
“Rey.”  
  
She wore her hair up in the desert, in tight, constricted buns and knots to stop her neck, shoulders, and back from overheating. Now it hung loose over her shoulders, tangled from sleep, as well as from obsessively running her hands through it; it was a nervous tic he found endearing. She sat with her legs folded, elbows on her knees and her head resting in her hands.  
  
“Rey,” He repeated, slowly advancing, unsure of how coherent she was. Perhaps the most dangerous thing about Rey was that her powers were, as of yet, not completely tamed, and it would not be the first time that she’d accidentally lashed out at him in a moment of alarm or surprise.  
  
“Have I made a mistake?” Rey croaked, head still in her hands, eyes covered. “Have I made a mistake, coming here?”  
  
Ben lowered himself to the floor about three feet away from her, mimicking her crossed legs and adopting as relaxed a position as he could. “Of course not.”  
  
“Finn is disappointed in me. Leia’s disappointed in me. Luke’s disappointed in me.”  
  
_Join the club,_ Kylo Ren thought with some dry bitterness.  
  
“Luke is dead.”  
  
“I can still hear him,” Rey said, voice growing strained, ragged. “I can _see_ him too, sometimes.” Her hands slid upwards, fingers digging into her scalp.  
  
Ah, that made a little more sense: Luke was haunting her from the beyond, appearing to her as a Force-ghost and trying to dissuade her from the path she’d taken- the path _he’d_ taken. Less apprehensive now, Kylo Ren slid closer until he was (somewhat) beside her, the size of the nook restricting his movements somewhat. He slid his arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently, and lowered his face until it was nearly pressed against the top of her head.  
  
“You made the right choice,” He whispered, lips brushing her hair. “You’re with me. You’re not alone anymore.” That, at its heart, was what did it that day in Snoke’s throne-room, standing over the body of his dead master and pleading with Rey to join him: Rey did not want to be alone.  
  
As it was, neither did Kylo Ren, but he wasn’t the one who needed convincing.  
  
He had wondered if maybe it had been a bad idea to tell her about her parents, about what they’d done to her and where they were now, something inside of him twisting as the sight of the tears streaking down Rey’s face. The knowledge, he knew, had broken her heart- but it was the truth, nevertheless, and she deserved to know it.  
  
“Let the past die,” Kylo Ren told her, _begged_ her. “Kill it, and stay here. Stay here with me.”  
  
And Rey had come to him, ignoring the outstretched hand in favor of wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face into his chest. She had clutched him so tightly, and he had returned the embrace with a deep, burning, unbelievable _relief_ : She had not rejected him, she was coming with him, she would not be alone any longer and neither would he. They had another like themselves now, and Kylo Ren had been truly, honestly _happy_ in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.  
  
He was content now (even more so now that he’d had the pleasure of throwing Hux around in front of his subordinates on a few occasions), and was quite happy to continue on as he had been; Rey, however, struggled as he had struggled under Snoke’s tutelage. The Light called to her as it had called to him, but it called far louder, far more insistently, and now his dead uncle was making it his business to join in the chorus of noise in Rey’s head.  
  
It took a few minutes, but eventually Rey began to unwind, the tension in her body slipping away. Her hands came to fall on her lap, and she began to lean back into Kylo Ren’s chest. He brought a hand up to slide through her hair, and she whispered, “He won’t leave me alone.”  
  
Kylo Ren felt a stab of some ugly and dark in his heart. He had never, _never_ forgiven Luke for what had happened the night he’d destroyed the temple- one did not heal easily from the sense of betrayal attached to an attempted murder at the hands of a relative- and the knowledge that Luke was now harassing Rey, trying to make her change her mind, trying to make her _abandon_ him made him feel almost crazy with rage. But he forced that down, didn’t want Rey to feel it and think it was directed at her, and moved to wrap both arms around her.  
  
He whispered three words into her ear, three words that he hadn’t spoken to anyone since he was, _maybe_ , ten years-old, and he said them now because he meant them, and was desperate for her to grasp the sincerity behind them so she wouldn’t be tempted to leave him. He let her call him by his old name, he didn’t try to break her spirit the way Snoke had broken him, he made a point of being affectionate with her when he could be, and he did everything in his power to remind her how _happy_ she made him, even if he couldn’t let such things show in front of the First Order.  
  
“Come to bed with me,” Kylo Ren whispered, kissing her temple. “I’ll keep him away.”  
  
Rey nodded, not an ounce of hesitation to be had. She might be questioning her path, but Kylo Ren was tentatively, cautiously relieved to believe that she was not questioning her choice to be with _him_.  
  
He brought her to his bed, and they kissed for a time, and he slid his hand between her legs and made her gasp and whimper his name, the one he only lets her call him by, and presses in close to her, feels her, smells her; for however much he’s inclined to believe that Rey has chosen him and only him, he’s painfully, acutely aware that this may not last forever.  
  
When she’s curled against him after, not quite asleep, Kylo Ren stays awake and vigilant. He’s reasonably certain that Luke won’t be paying another visit tonight- he likely gave up when Rey called for Kylo Ren earlier, and if he didn’t, he’d have definitely left when they’d started having sex- but Kylo Ren remains awake anyway and keeps watch, because that is what he’d told Rey he would do.  
  
In the morning, he knew, Rey would likely be tired but calm, eager to forget the incident and continue on with any training they had planned for the day. She was, in spite of everything, doing her best to follow Kylo Ren’s advice: Let the past die, and if it won’t go quietly, then _kill_ it. She would not speak of Finn, or Leia, or Han, or Luke, who had been powerful but fleeting influences in her life, whereas now she had stability and security and someone who was so very much like her in many ways.  
  
No, they would go about their usual routine, and Rey would be happy with him, and he would be happy with her, and they would not question this contentedness or how long it would last. Kylo Ren would not think on how strong Rey was with the Light, and he would not allow himself to consider that she might return to it one day.  
  
He would only be happy that she’d heeded his call.  
  
-End


End file.
